Pp. 184-6:—
Letter 17 to my mother from W. C., dated Olney, June 9, 1772.
My dear Aunt,—I thank you for your kind note, and for the papers you was so good as to send me by Mr. N[ewton]. The last words of a dying saint, and some of the first lispings of, I trust, a living one! May the Lord accomplish the work He seems to have begun, and sanctify to my dear kinsman, all his disappointments, and the great affliction with which He has seen good to visit him. This has been my prayer for him every day since I was acquainted with his troubles; except at some times, when my own soul has seemed to be almost swallowed up in spiritual distress. At such times I am forced to account it a great matter if I can groan out something, a little like a prayer, for myself. I bless God I can say, I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded He will keep me; but, together with this persuasion, which, one would think, would smooth the roughest road of life, and make a paradise of a desert, I have temptations that are almost ever present with me, and shed a thick gloom upon all my prospect. Sin is my burthen, a sure token that I shall be delivered from its remaining power, but while it remains, it will oppress me. The Lord, who chose me in the furnace of affliction, is pleased to afford the tempter a large permission to try me: I think I may say, I am tried to the utmost, or nearly to the utmost, that spiritual trials can amount to: and when I think of the more even path in which some are led to glory, I am ready to sigh and say: Oh that the lines were fallen unto me in such pleasant places! In my judgement I approve of all I meet with, see the necessity there is that I should be in heaviness, and how good it is, to bear the yoke of adversity: but in my experience there is a sad swerving aside, a spirit that would prescribe to the only wise God, and teach Him how He should deal with me. I weary myself with ineffectual struggles against His will, and then sink into an idle despondence, equally unbecoming a soldier of Christ Jesus. A seaman terrified at a storm, who creeps down into the hold, when he should be busy amongst the tackling aloft, is just my picture. But let me not conceal my Master's goodness. I have other days in my calendar; days that would be foolishly exchanged for all the monarchies of the earth! That part of the wilderness I walk through, is a romantick scene, there is but little level ground in it, but mountains hard to ascend, deep and dark valleys, wild torrents, caves and dens in abundance: but when I can hear my Lord invite me from afar, and say, Come to me, my spouse come from the Lebanon, from the top of Amana, from the lions' dens, from the mountains and the leopards, then I can reply with cheerfulness: Behold I come unto Thee, for Thou art the Lord my God.
I beg my love to Mrs. C[owper], and do not cease to pray for her. Remember me affectionately to Mrs. M—d [Maitland] and to M—n [Martin], etc, when you see them. Believe me, my dear Aunt,
Pp. 186-9:—
Letter 20 [should be 24].
Dated July 14, 1772.
My dear Cousin,—I return you many thank for the papers Mr. N[ewton] brought with him. I am acquainted with those deeps through which your son has passed, and can therefore sympathize with him. A spirit of conviction breathes in the prayers he left behind him;[1] they are the language of a soul in anguish on the account of sin, that finds itself a guilty creature, helpless as it is miserable, and under a necessity of seeking pardon and peace from God. While it was thus with me, the world, which till then had satisfied me, could satisfy me no longer; I found it was a mere wilderness, a dark uncomfortable scene; the face of man became terrible to me, and I could not bear to meet the eye of a fellow-creature. The distress of my poor friend seems to be of this kind: 'tis true he has always been virtuous, and of a religious cast, but the Lord, in order to shew, that persons of all characters, have equal need of mercy, and that all are amenable to His holy law, having sinned and come short of His glory, deals sometimes more sharply with such an one, than with the most profligate and abandoned. The latter perhaps shall be drawn gently towards Him with the cords of love, whilst the sweet and amiable amongst the children of men, shall be made a terror to themselves. The self-righteous spirit (which such are in peculiar danger of) must be humbled in the dust, and these, as well as others, become guilty before God! I pity him therefore, for it is sad indeed, when the arrows of the Almighty stick fast in the conscience, and His hand presseth us sore. I know well for my own part, (and my conduct proved it) that rather than stand at the bar of the house, in that condition, I should have been glad of a retreat in the bowels of the earth, and to have hid myself in the centre of it. God knows how gladly I would have laid down my existence had that been possible; and that I should have shouted for joy, at the thought of annihilation. But God had better things in store for me, and so, I doubt not, He has for my dear namesake, 'twas a rough way by which He wrought me out of Egypt, but He did it with an outstretched arm; if He sees that affliction is good for us, we shall find it; He will not be turned aside from His purpose. He does not grieve us willingly, but we must drink the cup He has mixt for us; and when we have done so, and our trouble has had its due effect, He will reveal His compassion to us, and convince us, that He pitied us all the while, and made our burthen heavy only because He had a favour towards us. Thus He dealt with me; and thus, I trust, He will deal with B. In the meantime, my dear cousin, we have much to praise Him for. How kindly did the Lord provide for him the most hospitable reception even in a strange land, and how did He watch over him in all his way, preserving him from those many dangers to which, unattended as he was, he was continually exposed! I don't write to remind you of these things, for I dare say, you have no need of such a monitor, but I mention them as affording a ground of much encouragement to hope, that grace, mercy and peace to you and yours shall close the dispensation.
You may depend upon my taking the utmost care of the papers,[2] and that they shall be returned by the first safe opportunity. I congratulate you upon G.'s safe arrival. Give my love to him and to M—a, and believe me, affectionately yours, etc.
